


this is for the snakes, and the people they bite

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, i dont really specify, its just after the tu omnia moment lmao, or at east somewhere in book 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: You’re quiet for a moment before sighing. “I… I’m so sorry you had to deal with my melodrama. I honestly didn’t even realize I had called you.”Adam purses his lips, a hard look coming down on his face, and you almost flinch from the sudden change. He notices and softens slightly. “Its not melodrama,” he says firmly. “My job is to keep you safe, and that includes from yourself.”Your lips twitch at that and you can’t help the snort that comes out. “Yeah, okay, bud. You can’t hold my hand while for who knows how long while I slept and claim that it’s a purely professional relationship.”***The Detective has a nightmare about Murphy, and Adam comes to comfort him, citing it as part of his job.
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Male Detective/Adam du Mortain
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	this is for the snakes, and the people they bite

**Author's Note:**

> i just binged all of wayhaven like a week ago and i am Super Obsessed. this is my first take on the characters.
> 
> i tried to keep the detective as vague as possible, but my detective is named Sai Kingston in case you were curious, and he doesn't take shit from anyone.

_A warehouse. Beams high above your head, you try to reach out to touch them, and you choke when you can’t move your arms. You look down to see hard, leather straps binding you to a rough, wooden chair. There’s a sharp needle in your arm, and you feel dizzy as your eyes follow the tube to a bag of thick, bubbling tar. Your ribs feel like they are being folded into each other, and you choke on a sob as you thrash, but it feels like there’s thousands of pounds of weight pressing down on you from all directions. You can hear footsteps echoing in the distance and you struggle harder, feeling the needle tearing into your flesh like its a serrated knife, and you can’t fucking breath, and its all too goddamn much._

_You look towards the door, hearing his laugh sweep into the room like a harsh, biting wind, stinging your skin, and when you look back, your palms have been nailed to a cross, and the vampire blood is only inches from your veins, and you have the fleeting moment of_ Christian imagery, really? I’m hardly a Jesus-like figure- _before a tall figure appears in the doorway. His smile is cold as he takes you in, his eyes dragging up and down your body._

_“Now, now, dear Detective,” he croons, stepping closer. His fingers brush your jaw, and you dry heave. How did he get so close? “I’d almost mistake you for Atlas with how you act as if the world is on your shoulders, but don’t worry. I’ll be there soon to fix that.”_

You wake with a scream, shooting up straight in your bed. You gasp for air, your heart hammering in your throat, and you pull your knees to your chest, your body wracking with sobs.

You know you’re having a panic attack, but you honestly can’t get much further than “panic attack” and “Murphy”, and there’s a blur of… Something, time passing presumably, and you honestly had no idea what happened or how long it was before suddenly it wasn’t just you in your room. You hear footsteps on the hardwood flooring of the hallway, and when you look up, there’s a shadowy figure in your doorway, and you choke- scrambling for your Volt gun, the DMB spray, anything, when the shadowy figure holds their hands out like they’re taming a wild animal, and for the first time, your brain registers blonde hair and icy green eyes.

You falter, fingers curled around a pocket knife on your bedside as you stare, and then your brows furrow. “Adam?”

“Detective,” Adam says slowly, his voice soft and low as he takes you in. His brows are furrowed, lips parted, and he takes a small step closer. “Can… Can I come closer?” He asks, as if he needs to, as if you are something breakable and fragile, as if you are dangerous.

A bit belatedly, you realize you are still holding the knife, and you slowly release it. It clatters on the hard wood of the table, and you flinch, struggling to take a full breath in. You can’t remember how, and you can’t talk, and you just nod quickly and hope Adam still knows how to breathe because you sure as hell don’t.

Adam, thankfully, seems to take the hint, and he hurries forward, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Detective, look at me,” he says, forcing your attention to him. He reaches out his hand and gently pries your fingers off an object- your cell phone. It was open to an active call with Adam. That explains how he knew to come, but you have no memory of calling him. He puts the phone aside and hesitates before pressing your hand to his chest. “Just- just follow my lead,” he says, voice more confident.

 _Of course he’d be more confident, being back in charge._ The thought startles you out of… something, and you let out a haggard breath that was almost a laugh. Adam was kind enough to not mention it as he took deep, slow breaths, watching your face like a hawk, and slowly but surely, you start to get there too. After what feels like hours, your breathing evens out, and the tension unwinds from your body. Exhaustion rots you to your core, filling your bones and muscles with lead, and you duck your head, fingers curling in the soft fabric of Adam’s shirt. Bile rises in your throat and you shudder, keeping your lips firmly shut until the feeling passes.

Then, you are left in a room that is too big, vast and empty like a warehouse, yet too cramped and restraining, like leather straps on a wooden chair, and you press your clenched fist more firmly against Adam’s chest, and he lets you.

“Let me get you some water,” he says softly.

“Please don’t go,” you whisper in return, so he stays.

The silence stretches on, and you can feel his eyes on the back of your head. You feel his hand very gently untangle your fingers from his shirt, and instead holds it instead, something he has never done. You don’t comment, and neither does he.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re blinking awake. Your body aches, your alarm is going off, and your hand is oddly warm. You open your eyes and find yourself propped up against your headboard, Adam sitting next to you with his hand gently curled around yours. 

He notices you’re awake and very gently extracts his hand, reaching over to turn off your alarm clock. He stretches his fingers like he hasn’t moved them in hours, and you suddenly realize he might not have. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he says quietly, regarding you with something in his eyes you can’t place. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“It was a nightmare,” you say softly, your hand ghosting over the insides of your elbows, where Murphy had forced in the needles. “Warehouse. IVs. Murphy.” You hesitate, looking to the side. You feel so stupid and embarrassed, and pull your knees to your chest. “He… He said something about me being Atlas, and then… And then said he would be here soon.”

“Atlas?” Adam echoes, brow furrowing. “Did he call you that when… Did he actually say that?”

You snort and shake your head, rubbing your face with your hands. “No. At least, I’m pretty sure he didn’t. I don’t know, its bullshit my brain made up.” You’re quiet for a moment before sighing. “I… I’m so sorry you had to deal with my melodrama. I honestly didn’t even realize I had called you.”

Adam purses his lips, a hard look coming down on his face, and you almost flinch from the sudden change. He notices and softens slightly. “Its not melodrama,” he says firmly. “My job is to keep you safe, and that includes from yourself.”

Your lips twitch at that and you can’t help the snort that comes out. “Yeah, okay, bud. You can’t hold my hand while for who knows how long while I slept and claim that it’s a purely professional relationship.”

A scowl curls his lips, but you can tell the tips of his ears are significantly more pink than they were a moment ago. “I didn’t want to risk waking you, it was a courtesy. You didn’t want me to leave, and I wanted you to know I was staying true to that. I don’t have to do it next time, you know.”

You raise a brow, head tilting just so. “Next time?”

His scowl deepens. “Yes, next time. I expect you to call me when such things happen as it leaves you vulnerable to attacks and unaware of your own actions. It’s detrimental to the entire point of us being here, and its a risk I am not willing to take.”

Something warms in your chest, and you get up slowly, still quite shaky. You notice that Adam is paying careful attention to you- and not just to make sure you don’t stumble either. You smirk at him, and cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, sure, you can drop a tu omnia on me, but when it comes to admitting you at least care enough to get me through panic attacks, you clam up. If it makes you feel better, you can say “no homo” afterwards, Adam, it won’t hurt my feelings.”

“You’re gonna be late for work,” Adam deflects, standing up as well. He seems awfully tense and closed off at your prodding, and you purse your lips, but you drop that particular line. You don’t have the energy to deal with an emotionally constipated 900 year old vampire with trust issues and a martyr complex. Not right now at least.

“I’ve got plenty of time,” you say instead, glancing at the clock. Well, not quite plenty of time, but enough time that if you pick up coffee and a pastry at Haley’s instead of making yourself breakfast, you could slide by.

Adam looks at you before sighing. “You’re a mess. Take a shower. I’ll bring you coffee to your office-” he holds up a finger pointedly before you can interject. “-because you will need it and I’m trying to be a better teammate or whatever you claimed would be beneficial to our purpose.”

“I think the words I used were “work on your people skills” actually,” you comment with a smirk. He sneers at you, and you just grab some clothes from your dresser. You can feel the gritty feeling of dried tears on your cheeks, and you rub at them, back to Adam.

You’re fine. It’s fine.

You wonder if Adam is going to leave while you’re in the shower, and you can’t explain the tight feeling in your throat and chest at the thought. Still, you say nothing and head into the bathroom- you refuse to be seen as helpless. You’ve been fighting this long to be seen as just as capable as the other members of Unit Bravo, and you refuse to give that up now. You refuse to be the weak link. Especially in front of Adam.

You force yourself to stop thinking like that- its not productive. You set your clothes on the counter in your bathroom and get into the shower, maybe taking a bit longer than you usually would but it was not because you were delaying the inevitable realization of your apartment being empty once you got out, it was simply to make sure you really did get nice and clean or whatever. Normal shower shit.

You got out, dried up, and put fresh clothes on (skinny jeans and a soft shirt with a patterned button up over top that was left open, a very gay look if you do say so yourself), fully intending to grab your wallet, keys, badge, phone, and just go, but as you opened the door, you startle.

Adam is leaning against the wall across from the bathroom, face impassive and eyes covered with his aviators, and in his hands is your stuff you need to go to work. He raises a brow and silently holds out your things. You take them and stuff them in your pockets.

“Sunglasses indoors, huh?” You prompt after a long moment of silence. He drops his hands and says nothing, but he purses his lips.

You shrug and lead the way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you,and then down to where your car is parked, Adam following close behind you. You open the driver’s side door, and notice Adam makes no motion to get in the car. You can take a hint. Still, you hesitate for a long moment, fingers curled over the top of the door.

“What did I say?” You finally ask after a moment. You surprise yourself a bit by the suddenness of the question, but it has been bothering you, somewhere in the back of your head. You can’t remember the phone call at all, yet Adam came.

Adam is silent for a moment and just as you open your mouth to clarify, he answers. “You didn’t say anything,” he says quietly.

Your brows furrow as you falter, blinking dumbly. “I didn’t say… Anything?”

“You didn’t have to,” Adam says, and you can’t see his eyes through the sunglasses, but you can feel them staring into yours. He then looks to the side and clears his throat. “I’ll meet you at the station with coffee and something to eat.” He glances at you with a frown. “Not a pastry. Something actually good for you.” And like the vampire bastard he is, he flashes off before you can reply.

You sigh and get into your car. Today hasn’t exactly been great so far, but it could certainly be worse.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos make me smile, comments make my day!


End file.
